


The Little Fox

by Ribbon_Dragon10



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also changed that rating due to the story getting fixed a bit., Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Eastern Fantasy, Another picture in future will definitely show one as well., Fanart, Fluff, However it's not gory., Just that there is a literal display of violence., Kitsune, Kitsune!Lance, Kitsunemimi, Light Angst, M/M, More like melancholy., Partial Nudity, Romantic Fluff, So a heads-up just in case., Tags will be changed accordingly in future., The "Graphic Violence" warning is to do with a picture showing violence., The warning is there for a future chapter, There's a reason for that but don't worry., This fic is mainly fluff., fox!lance, shance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 01:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14368278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbon_Dragon10/pseuds/Ribbon_Dragon10
Summary: A lone woodcutter who resides in the forest, Shirogane Takashi, one day finds an injured brown fox with blue eyes lying on the side of the road.  Moved with compassion, he takes the little creature home and tends to his wounds.  The next day, he is shocked to find a young man sleeping in place of where the fox once lay.  Eastern Fantasy AU, Shance (Woodcutter!Shiro x Kitsune!Lance).





	1. Find and Care

**Author's Note:**

> My first Voltron fic, and as always, whenever entering a new fandom, it's always daunting when you write works for them. This was inspired from listening to a few songs online and the setting is an Eastern Fantasy AU ala Okami, Warriors series, Fengshen Yanyi, though this one is more restricted since it keeps to one main setting.
> 
> Art is made by me. Please, do not repost without my permission.

If you were to go into the forest just past the village, you would need to follow the dirt trail so that you would not get lost.  Still, the villagers continued reminding their children over and over again not to stray from the path lest they venture into the forest. 

It was simply not permitted for all kinds of strange things resided in there.

The forest itself was grand with greenery.  Trees towered along, their trunks tough and thick while their branches billowed, wild and spindly like fingers.  You would most likely be able to hear the calming and even soothing sounds of a river rushing by, and that was a good way to find the path again.

Another way to return would be if you happened into the forest’s sole human resident or his humble abode.

A little cottage was situated a couple of miles away from the village.  It was also a couple of miles from the dirt road itself.  Inside this cottage was just a simple sleeping mat made of neatly woven straw and thatch, a blanket, a lantern, and a few shelves and drawers that were crafted by hand and made from wood.

The sole resident of the cottage, a woodcutter, would be out gathering the wood.  A humble young man, he would venture into the forest to gather some fallen logs and the husks of toughened trunks to take back to his home where he could chop them with his trusty axe into either firewood to keep himself warm or crafting materials he may sell during the rare times he went to the village.

He stood tall, chest broad with firm shoulders, and muscular arms emerging from a simple cotton shirt.  Dark hair and honest grey eyes, he was a handsome young man that was blooming in the starting prime of his adulthood.  Usually, he would carry his axe over his shoulder if he had nothing else to carry.  He knew his way in the forest from the back of his hand and so if you were to get lost and were hopeless with directions, just hope to stumble across him.  Being a benevolent individual, the woodcutter would venture at night around the forest just in case some hapless person found themselves lost.

It happened to be a quiet night that night as the woodcutter wandered along the forests.  Patrolling through the lush greenery to see if someone got lost in that day. 

Going along the river, once he reached the soft spring that rested at the side of the mountain, he ventured right towards the dirt road.

The stars were shining in all their splendour out in nature, twinkling their merry little lights above him.  The woodcutter smiled gently to himself as he gazed upward, admiring the little balls of glimmering lights.  Wondering what lay beyond the night sky. 

That was when he heard a small whimper.

Taken out of his gazing, the woodcutter paused and strained his ear.  Upon hearing the repeat of a small whimper, he immediately strode to the source.  Snared by both curiosity and concern.

Closer and closer, the woodcutter ventured until he finally saw the source of the noise.  His grey eyes widened at the sight.

At the side of the dirt road was a brown fox that was lying all curled up, brushy tail covering his face while his ears were flattened.  Coming closer, the woodcutter saw that the poor thing was trembling and breathing heavily.  When the fox slowly raised his head to see who had stumbled upon him, a pair of blue orbs peered back up at the woodcutter. 

They were bluer than any sapphire the woodcutter had ever seen… 

…and they were also filled with tears.

Feeling his heart twinge in sympathy and compassion, the woodcutter lowered his axe.  “Hey…” his voice was low and hushed.  “It’s okay…” Carefully, he brought a hand out towards the creature.

The fox gave a little squeak and buried his head back into his tail.  His tail also bristling slightly, probably in fear. 

Still, the woodcutter persisted but in a subtle and soft manner so as not to further scare the creature.  Prudently, he stroked the fox’s head, scratching behind one of the ears in reassurance.  Slowly, the fox’s ears pricked back up and he raised his head up, eyes now closed in content.

It seemed he liked being pet on the head.

The woodcutter warmly beamed before taking notice of a red splotch near the fox’s leg.  His smile faded into a stern yet concerned scowl as he carefully stroked along the fox’s back so that he could take a better look.  “Excuse me,” the woodcutter said quietly as he gently brushed the fox’s tail away.  He continued scratching behind the fox’s ear in with his other hand and pet his head in quiet reassurance.

There was a cut that was leaking warm drops of blood on the fox’s hind leg.  It bathed the dirt underneath.

“Poor little guy…” the woodcutter murmured, shaking his head.  He could only imagine what transpired to this but in truth, he didn’t want to dwell on it.  What mattered was that here was the fox, still alive, and he found it.  Placing the reassuring smile back on his face again, the woodcutter continued stroking along the brown fur, admiring the softness of it – almost like fine silk – before ripping some of the fabric of his shirt.  Cautiously and lightly, he wrapped the strip of fabric around the fox’s wound before picking him up in his strong arms.

The fox gave another little squeak, appearing surprised with what just occurred.  After squirming a little in the woodcutter’s arms, he stopped after hearing that deep and soothing voice.

“Don’t worry, just let me take care of this.”

Knowing the way home, the woodcutter easily came back to his cottage and brought the fox inside.  Lighting a small fire, the little cottage was filled with warmth.  The woodcutter carefully placed the fox on his bed and searched through the drawers for bandages and some medicinal ointment he picked up from the village’s clinic.  Picking up a small wooden bucket filled with water, he took a rag and came back to his furry little guest.

Stroking along the fox’s head again, the woodcutter quietly shushed him reassuringly, “It’s alright, little guy.  Let me help…”

The fox’s ear twitched but he eventually lay on his side and raised his wounded leg a little, giving a little whimper in the process.  No doubt due to the pain.

Straight away, the woodcutter went to work.  Prudently, he untied the now bloody strip of cloth that provided as a makeshift bandage on their way there.  Dipping the rag into the bucket of water, he squeezed it to get rid of any excess of the liquid before tenderly dabbing it on the bloody wound.  A little hiss came from the fox but it remained still in position as the human continued cleaning his wound.  Taking some of the ointment, the woodcutter gathered a bit with the tip of his finger before cautiously spreading it on the wound.

The fox gave a little yelp.  No doubt due to the stinging.

“It’s okay…” the woodcutter reassured soothingly.  He smiled in encouragement.  “Almost done…you’re doing great.”

The fox’s blue eyes darted to the human that was tending to his wound.  For a moment, he simply watched the woodcutter tending to his wound…

“There you go.  All done.”

The fox looked down at his leg to see that the wound was wrapped up in proper bandages.  The bandaging itself was firm but not tight.  The fox could still move around, but he found that it stung a bit to move his leg, as did all injuries such as the one he sustained.

Still, the brown-furred creature tilted his head a little, seemingly a bit shy, before responding in gratitude to the woodcutter’s kindness.

He made a noise that sounded in between cooing and warbling.  Either way, it was a soft, sweet, and warm little sound that reverberated in the warm little cottage.

The woodcutter was aware foxes made all kinds of strange noises but he was a little surprised at hearing this.  However, his small smile spread out a bit more before he let out a pleasant chuckle.  Unable to help himself, he petted the fox on the head, scratching behind his ears.

He was a little astonished yet delighted at how the fox was rubbing back against his hand.  With the way his sapphire eyes were shut, he looked really content to be pet.

It almost appeared as if he were smiling…

“I don’t think you’ll be able to fend for yourself out there, will you?” the woodcutter questioned, rubbing his thumb against the silky brown fur.  “Not with that leg, anyway.  You can stay here with me as much as you’d like.  I don’t have much to offer, but I’ll do my best for the both of us.”

The fox’s eyes seemed to twinkle at hearing this. 

So it was at that night, the woodcutter went to bed with a fox sleeping close to him.  The small fire blazed on in the quiet night as both were in warm and content slumber.  Before settling into his simple bed and putting up the blanket, the woodcutter scratched the fox’s head one more time.

The fox gave another cooing warble and once more, rubbed and nuzzled against the human.  The woodcutter was surprised at how easily the furry creature seemed to trust and respond positively to his actions.  However, it would be a lie to say that that didn’t delight him in the slightest.

On the contrary, actually.

Finally resting back in his bed, the woodcutter bid the fox good night.  In response, the fox suddenly licked his cheek.

“Whoa, hey!” the woodcutter gave a little laugh before petting the fox again.  “Hey, come on.  We should get some sleep.  You definitely need some rest for your leg to get better.”

The fox gave a tiny whine, ears flattening a little bit as he peered at the human, sapphire eyes staring intensely into his grey ones.

The woodcutter cleared his throat, trying to resist that endearing look.  His voice was firmer as he spoke up, “Rest.  I don’t want you to get sick.”

The fox exhaled, appearing to be sighing.  But it gave one last affectionate lick on the woodcutter’s cheek before finally walking in a circle and settling down to sleep.  His brushy tail covering his face as he lay beside the woodcutter. 

Feeling the breathing of the small presence next to him, the woodcutter was at first afraid that he may accidentally roll over during slumber and crush the poor fox.  But the excitement of the day proved exhausting, so his eyes drooped, finally permitting him to sleep.

_\---_

Pieces of the sun’s rays dappled through the door and a few nooks and crannies in the woodcutter’s home to signal that a new day had come.

His vision a little hazy from slumber, the woodcutter blinked to gather himself.  He was about to look over and check his little furry guest to see how he fared when he realized something was amiss…

There was a body much larger than that of a fox’s pressed against him from underneath the blanket.

Eyes widening, the woodcutter jolted a bit, somewhat leaping up from his simple straw bed.  Carefully and cautiously, he kneeled down, took some of the blanket and slowly lifted it.

There lay a lovely looking young man in deep slumber.  Dark brown hair framing his tanned face, a curious pair of fox ears twitched while a brushy tail curled inwardly.

* * *

  
_The stars in the sky brighten up one another_  
_The fox has been injured; he is lying curled up on the side of the road_  
_The woodcutter passes by to see the fox who has tears in his eyes_  
_His heart softens, thus he puts away his axe_

_The small cottage gained another resident_


	2. The Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woodcutter wakes up to find a rather unexpected guest in his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but I finally updated this story. Been busy with work and other projects so that's primarily why it took a while along with the artwork. Also because technology has not been kind to this fic - it deleted this chapter a good number of times so I had to rewrite before getting it into my thick skull to simply post it online for storage.
> 
> However, a quick word first: some of you may notice a change in the rating and an added warning. While rewriting this chapter, I found myself reworking the story a bit more and adding a bit. However, the changes shouldn't be too major: just warnings and precautions.
> 
> "Graphic Violence" is because there will be a few artworks that will show violence (probably just two though). Not gory things, but there'll be a literal display of violence (primarily a fox getting bitten, and a fight), so it's a heads-up for anyone who doesn't like seeing violence, in general. Otherwise, if people feel that the warning is unnecessary, I will remove it.
> 
> Changed to Mature rating because of the few violence artworks and there'll be references to sex later on. Also just in case the word "genitalia" is considered mature.
> 
> Anyway, the images are done and owned by me. Please do not repost without my permission.

The woodcutter continued to stare in shock, disbelieving the sight that lay before him.

Still in what appeared to be a deep sleep, the young man with the vulpine ears and tail lay in the nude.

 _‘Is this really the fox from last night?’_ the woodcutter wondered to himself.  Cautiously, he came forward and, with a calculatedly firm and gentle grasp, lifted the brushy tail to view the stranger’s right leg.

He gained a confirmed answer.

 _‘He really is the fox…’_ the woodcutter mused in astonishment, sighting the familiar wound that the furry creature had from yesterday.  Glancing at his simple bed, the human saw that there were scraps and remnants of bloody bandages lying nearby.  He wondered if perhaps they snapped off or slipped due to the fox shifting into a more human form.  Even if he appeared lithe in figure, the bandages still would not have been able to stay in place due to their small size.

That was when the fox stirred.

Immediately, the woodcutter prudently put the tail back down and got to his feet as the fox rose from his slumber.  He stretched, back arching gracefully before he leaned forward, bending himself and yawning widely to show prominent canine teeth, much like how a normal fox would’ve done.

The woodcutter couldn’t help but feel amused at the strange sight.  However, he figured that it would be best to remain polite despite the bizarre scenario.  “Good morning,” he greeted courteously.

The fox’s ear twitched and his tired blue eyes suddenly blinked open as his figure perked up upon the sight of the woodcutter.  He beamed brightly as he instantly sat up, albeit wincing a little from moving a bit too quickly on his leg, “Ah…hi! Good morning!” He waved but then stopped and looked this way and that, “Wait, what time is it? I didn’t sleep in your bed for too long, did I?”

“No, no, it’s still morning,” the woodcutter responded, a bit surprised yet still quite amused at the fox’s fretful answer.  “And don’t worry.  You need all the rest you can get for your leg.”

“Y-yeah…” the fox then peeked at his leg and grimaced again at the wound.  The dried blood appeared scratchy and scrappy on his skin.  He then rubbed the back of his head as he spoke apologetically with a weak smile as if to try and lighten the mood, “Hey, I’m really sorry if I startled you, by the way.  I mean, I really liked and wanted to sleep with you but I was kind of afraid you might roll on me.  Not that I’m saying you’re fat or anything, you’re definitely not!" He then lifted up his hands and started waving them back and forth as if to try and wave away what he had uttered, "Really! You’ve got a great figure—I mean! It’s just…”

Hearing the fox babble on like this made the woodcutter finally give a pleasant chuckle, covering his mouth while his eyes shut.

The fox stopped from his prattling and stared at the human in awe.  The woodcutter was quite a handsome human, the vulpine guest was honestly both flustered yet eager to sleep with him in the same bed.  His smiles were lovely and not only did they soothe the fox’s being but they also seemed to make the human’s radiant face all the more radiant.  But seeing him express mirth such as this?

His radiance seemed to multiply tenfold.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the woodcutter spoke up, breaking the fox away from his dazed thoughts.  “It’s unexpected, but you’re quite right.  I was honestly worried I’d crush you in my sleep as well, but I guess I was just that tired.  It’s good to see you’re in better spirits, though.  At least…better spirits than from when you were smaller,” he mused thoughtfully.

The fox’s smile returned to his face but it took a softer and shyer tone as he bashfully curled a little bit inwardly.  He took hold of his tail and started preening at the fur, “Well…of course I’d be in way better spirits today.  I mean, I would’ve been a goner if you hadn’t saved me.”  When he gazed up at the woodcutter, his sapphire eyes glittered in admiration and adoration, “Hey, I never got your name, by the way! I should know the name of my hero, right~?”

To be given such an endearing look made the woodcutter’s cheeks take a tinge of red as he felt his heart thump in his mighty chest.  Those blue eyes shone lovelier than any jewel the woodcutter had ever seen.  Still, hearing the fox’s innocent request, he obliged, “Shirogane Takashi.  But just call me Shiro.”

“Shiro the hero~” the fox purred before chortling.  “I really like the sound of that!”

Shiro found that he liked the sound of it, too.  Especially when it was the cheery fox uttering it out with a roll of his tongue.

“I’m Lance,” the fox wiggled his brown ears before his grin grew sly.  He then clicked his tongue and winked in the woodcutter’s direction with a chirp, “Nice to meet you~”

“Pleasure is all mine,” Shiro answered back plainly and honestly, though still feeling amused at the fox’s conduct, not at all expecting this.  “Now, about your leg…”

Lance’s smile melted away as he slowly shifted his injured leg in Shiro’s direction to be checked over, “A-ahh…I’m really sorry about that.  When foxes shift, only foxes shift.” 

Shiro nodded, his assumption confirmed, “I can see that.”  However, seeing the fox bite his bottom lip, the woodcutter spoke in a more reassuring tone, “Not to worry, though.  I have plenty of bandages.  I live in the woods, and I chop wood, so obviously I’ll need a good number of bandages on me for all kinds of things.  I’ll just replace them when you shift.”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Lance shook his head before clearing his throat.  “You don’t have to replace them for me.  I can do it myself.  Just give me the things I need, and I’ll do it.”  The human was already doing so much for him: saving him from the cold or from being another creature’s supper, allowing him to stay in his home for as long as he needed, tending to his wound, and even letting him sleep in his bed.  The fox felt guilt claw at his insides that he was taking quite a lot from the woodcutter and not being able to give back somehow in return.

“I don’t mind,” Shiro said, voice remaining gently determined.  However, upon seeing Lance appear a bit apprehensive and insistent, the woodcutter gave a simple dip of his head, respecting his wishes, “Alright, then.  I understand.”  With that, he took the wooden bucket and sauntered towards the door.

Lance immediately perked up, ears standing straight, alert, “H-hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to get some water,” Shiro looked over his broad shoulder as he called to the fox reassuringly.  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon, I promise.  Just stay put.” 

And with that, his figure was gone from sight, disappearing past the door.

Lance’s ears gave a nervous twitch before they flattened a little against the sides of his head.  Folding his hands in his lap, he gazed down at his leg again and seethed at the dried blood marring his lighter brown skin.  Though he knew Shiro promised that he’d return shortly, the fox couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous being left all alone in his cottage.  Despite being in a remote place in the middle of the forest, Lance still couldn’t help but feel anxious in his current lonely state.

What if a predator came?

What if it was a territorial animal?

What if a human that wasn’t Shiro came?

What if that human that wasn’t Shiro was unfriendly?

Lance started fidgeting a bit, finally nervously preening at his tail, brushing at the fur and grooming some of the brown hairs to try and get his mind off of more worrisome thoughts.  However, he couldn’t help but shudder at recalling the events of the previous day that led him to today’s current state.

He was hungry and needed food, so he wandered a great distance before finding a golden field of wheat.  Initially, he saw a cluster of berries in a grove nearby the field and so, he munched to his heart’s content.  But the next problem came in that it was going to be cold that night, and the fox needed a place to stay as night soon approached.  He was shivering slightly as cold and harsh winds started picking up in warning.

That was when he sighted a young maiden feeding her dog.  They were sitting at the front of a lovely house that appeared more than big enough for the three of them and perhaps a family if she had one.

Foolishly, he had gone over to perhaps endeavour and appeal to the maiden’s good nature, hoping she would allow him sanctuary. 

Her response was a shrill scream at the sight of him as she shouted curses in his direction before running inside the house.   _"Stay away, wicked creature!"_ that was what she had said which took Lance aback.

The dog, on the other hand, was angered at his mistress being upset, so gave chase for what he perceived as an offense to his madame.

Lance had run instantly, fear coursing through his veins and fuelling his adrenaline as he tried turning this way and that to find a means of escape.  Sadly, he clumsily slipped over some stones during his concern of where to go which allowed enough time for the dog to take hold of him.  It seized his leg with its mighty jaws, prompting a pained and distressed screech to tear out from the fox’s throat.

Thrashing around desperately, Lance had finally kicked the dog with his free foot before swinging his weight over to bite back, scarring the dog’s muzzle before fleeing again.  Despite blood freely flowing down his wounded leg and the scorching, tearing pain causing his body to scream and plead for him to stop, he refused to do so until he was certain that the dog was nowhere in sight.

Before he could try and find a place to rest, Lance had washed his mouth in the river, disgusted at the taste of the dog’s blood still on his tongue.

He was a lover, not a fighter.

Not for a long distance did he wobble along before he noticed the dirt road.  Silently, he lay at the side of it, curling up to try and gather some warmth and strength.  Though he was silently praying that, despite trying to appeal for sanctuary before ending disastrously, perhaps some kind soul would discover and help him.

The heavens answered his prayers in the form of Shiro.

Lance was snapped out of his recollecting thoughts upon the return of the woodcutter.  The wooden pail was now filled with plenty of water as Shiro also gathered a cloth, some bandages, and ointment from the drawer at the bed’s side. 

After carefully settling the bucket down, Shiro dipped the cloth in the water and squeezed the excess liquid, reminiscent of last night.  Lance watched his movements closely, so he could repeat them in future.  The woodcutter then offered the wet cloth to the fox, “Here.”

Hesitant at first, Lance pushed down his apprehension with a display of bravado.  He grinned as he took the cloth from the human, “Thanks, Shiro!” Not long after, he carelessly splattered the cloth onto his wound, prompting a loud yelp of surprised pain as he jolted.  His teeth chattered at the stinging and he accidentally dropped the cloth

“Careful,” Shiro warned as he caught the cloth before it hit the ground.  “Don’t rush.  Just take things slow.”  He returned the cloth into Lance’s hand but, much to the fox’s surprise, the human’s grip remained on his hand.

Lance’s sapphire eyes widened when Shiro gently took his hand and helped him wash at his wound, softly dabbing at the bloody spots.  The human’s hold was firm yet also quite tender, and he applied just enough pressure that the water soaked some blood yet Lance didn’t experience as much pain as he did before from his carelessness.  The fox huffed a little from the inevitable stinging but with Shiro’s guiding hand and silently strong presence, it was easy to go through with it.

“Like that.  Yeah, that’s it.”

Lance’s tanned cheeks were painted with the brush of a cherry red with Shiro holding his hand so tenderly along with treating him so kindly and gently.  Perhaps as a result from being given such tender care, the fox nuzzled against the human’s shoulder, shutting his eyes softly as he inhaled his fresh scent.

Shiro stiffened in stunned silence upon the fox’s actions, but rationalized that simply put, Lance was a fox.  That was probably what they did to express gratitude or affection.

_‘Affection?’_

Shiro felt that Lance was really affectionate for a fox but honestly, he didn’t really mind it.  On the contrary, such sweet and endearing affection was quite welcome to him. 

For many years, he lived alone in this simple cottage in the woods.  Though he was used to his solitary life, there were times that the woodcutter yearned for someone to hold him and for him to hold.  Either by simply revelling in one another’s presence or hearing chatter that wasn’t his own also filled his heart with this yearning desire that someday he may find another who would share his life.

So for that, he relaxed his shoulders before bringing a hand up to the back of Lance’s head.  Much like what he did when he was just a little fox like last night, Shiro stroked at the brown fur before scratching behind the ears.

Lance responded with a cooing purr in his throat. 

When the fox’s wound was bandaged upon Shiro’s assistance, the two ate a simple meal of berries and greens that were safe to consume.  Shiro then went to go chop some wood with his trusty axe at the back as he gathered a good number of logs for home already from previous days.  Lance had wanted to follow him and watch.

“Hold on.  You can’t go out like that.”

“What? Why not?”

Shiro cleared his throat before his eyes darted away, even craning his head around as his cheekbones dusted red.

At first puzzled by the human’s conduct, Lance looked down then realized what was wrong.  “Oh! Sorry!” the fox gave a tinkling laugh.  “Almost forgot that humans don’t really like going around naked.  But, uh…” Lance’s ears lowered a little, but in embarrassment as he wrapped his tail around his genitals so the human could face him again.  “I don’t have anything to wear…”

Rubbing his chin, Shiro went to the drawers, “Hold on, I may have something.”  After rummaging through a few interesting items and odd knickknacks that made the fox wonder how or why the human had them, the woodcutter finally found what he had been looking for.  “Ah, here it is.”

Standing up, he raised a pale blue cotton _kimono_ , “Here.  Why don't you try this?”

Lance marvelled at the sight of the simple yet lovely robe held before him.  However, upon the proposal for him to try it on, the fox’s ear twitched as he rubbed the back of his head, “Um, I don’t know.  I mean, it looks amazing, really! But…that’s yours.  It’s not that I have a problem with wearing your clothes, but…you’re already doing so much for me…”

Shiro listened closely to what the fox had to say before smiling softly at understanding the fox’s apprehensions.  “Lance, you’re my guest,” his voice was clear, firm yet also kind.  Coming closer, he carefully opened the _kimono_ and helped Lance put it on.  “And it’s customary for the head of the household to treat their guests well, right?”  

Lance couldn’t stop the rapid beating of his heart as butterflies fluttered in his stomach.  His cheeks were even more reddened as he wanted to curl himself more inwardly from embarrassment.  A sudden dose of shyness taking over his being as Shiro gently led his slim arms through the holes of the sleeves. 

"Can you raise your arms a bit?"

"Like this?"

"Yeah, that's it.  Just let me tie the back, and you should be good to go."

When the human adjusted the white  _obi_ accordingly, the fox was glad that Shiro wasn’t facing him.

For he may be able to tell that the fox had already fallen in love.

“Is that alright, Lance? Or is it too tight?”

“Oh, no, it’s perfect.  Thanks, Shiro.”

Surveying his guest up and down, Shiro saw that the _kimono_ was a little big on Lance but not because of his height.  The fox was actually not that much shorter than him, perhaps just short by only a few inches.  However, Lance had a slender build, his legs were lithe and his arms were thin, so the _kimono,_ which was tailored for a man with a bulkier and thicker build like Shiro, was loose around the sleeves and hung limply around the waist area.

Yet when Lance raised his hands, Shiro found that the large sleeves appeared quite…cute on the fox.

While Shiro had gone out to chop the wood, Lance watched in awe at the human’s demonstration of strength.  The muscles in his biceps rippled as he swung his axe down with ease, cutting the wood in clean halves before moving on to the next piece.  He wondered how the human was able to have such strength at his current age.  

Speaking of which, just how old was Shiro? Though he appeared young, he definitely was not a child.  He was far too tall and too large to be one.  Lance tapped his chin as his mind wandered from wondering the answer to that question.  Shiro looked like an adult man, but just  _how_ old he was in adulthood was another question entirely.  He could very well have just bloomed into adulthood, reached the peak of it, or was about to exit it.  

At the end, Lance found himself settling with asking the woodcutter later.  And whatever answer he got, really, the brown fox didn't mind at all.

The number was not an issue to him.

A fresh day’s breeze had picked up not long into the day, to which Lance lazily closed his eyes and allowed the wind to comb through his dark brown hair, his ear flicking at it a few times.  He chuckled in fondness at seeing the sleeves of the _kimono_ sway slightly along with the breeze, raising his arms up to allow them to billow more freely.

Unbeknownst to the fox, the woodcutter saw that action and paused momentarily from his work.  A small smile flickered on his lips before he decided to resume so that his guest wouldn't catch him observing.

That was when Lance picked up a scent.

It was small and fresh but pleasant.  Dainty yet delicate.

Following the scent, Lance was careful to remember his way back to Shiro’s cottage and not to alert the working woodcutter.  Sniffing here and there, the fox eventually went past a few trees, marking them with scratches from his nails to find his way back again, and eventually, found the source in a patch of wild green grass close to the river.

Flowers.

Dainty little flowers with a gorgeous violet hue.  The petals appeared frail and delicate and the aroma they released was wonderful.  There were actually quite a number of them that were growing along the river’s banks. 

Marvelling at the pleasing appearance of the small flowers, Lance bent over and sniffed them, sighing happily at the lovely scent that washed his being like a fragrant perfume.  He wished Shiro could come and smell them, too…

That was when his ears suddenly perked up.  An idea forming in his head.

Shiro had finished with chopping the wood that he had and wiped the sweat that gathered at his brow.  Looking up, he wondered what had happened to his fox guest, “Lance?”  Lowering his axe and wiping away some more of the perspiration, the woodcutter called a bit louder, the seeds of worry started to sow within him, “Lance? Lance, where are you?”

“Shiro!”

The human’s shoulders relaxed in relief, worry dissipating upon hearing the fox’s voice still chipper and eager, “Lance, you had me worried for a second--”

“Here!”

That was when the woodcutter found a bunch of purple flowers shoved into his face.  Spluttering in surprise at first, Shiro took a step backwards upon seeing the fox holding a small bouquet of purple flowers in his direction.   “Wait, what?”

“I mean, here,” Lance cleared his throat and decided to calm his whole being upon seeing the woodcutter become startled.  In reality, that clear of his throat also helped settle down his own beating heart.  “I smelled these and, well, I thought of you and I wanted to thank you somehow.”  His young face suddenly grew shy as his eyes darted away for a moment to the side, avoiding eye contact.  But after a little shuffle on his feet, Lance plucked up the courage to look back at the human who saved him. 

His hero.

“Really, Shiro.  Thank you for everything.  For helping me and letting me live with you.  At least, until my leg’s healed up.”  Upon that afterthought, Lance felt a small tinge of disappointment, wondering if it was possible for him to stay beyond that time period.  Though he didn't know Shiro for that long, he found he was a man worthy of trust and pure of heart. 

He was wonderful.

And the fox, being stubborn and a fox, didn't want to let him go.

Still reeling from the unexpected yet kind gift, a soft yet flustered smile spread onto Shiro’s face as he accepted the flowers from the fox.  Giving a sniff himself, he sighed at the lovely aroma of the beautiful little flowers soothing his being.  “This is really sweet,” the human responded warmly, though he felt himself blush at the fact that somebody had actually done such an affectionate gesture towards him.  “Thank you, Lance.  As I said before, I don’t have much but you’re welcome to stay in my home for as long as you like.”

“For as long as I like, right?”

“For as long as you like.”

Lance’s heart was fluttering as he felt something within him bloom like a flower.  He was beaming widely and brightly from ear-to-ear, “Thank you! Thank you so much, Shiro!”

Shiro smiled at the fox bursting with happiness.  In reality, it uplifted his own heart seeing the chipper fox filled with delight, “It’s no problem, Lance.”

It was sunset, so the pair decided to watch at the front of the woodcutter’s cottage.  They sat side-by-side as they watched the sky turned orange with dapples of gold and pink spreading around in its expanse.  The sun was still shining so brilliantly as it crossed the horizon as a signal for the moon to take its place.  By that time, there was the murmur and chirp of crickets and other insects that may have scared villagers but was music to the ears of the woodcutter and the fox.

When the moon was in the sky, the pair would watch it quietly as they stared in awe at the glittering stars that accompanied it.  Shiro shared a few things he heard from the villagers about the stars, folktales, and stories that were spoken from his childhood.  Committed to his memory to share with others while Lance listened closely in interest.

Then, when Lance rubbed his eye and gave a tired yawn, feeling sleep start to claim him, he lay his head on Shiro's broad shoulder.  

Shiro would allow him to settle for a bit before carefully carrying him into the cottage where they could sleep properly in his bed together.  The woodcutter watched him quietly as the fox snuggled close, wrapping his tail around the human’s waist.  Giving a low murmuring chuckle, Shiro finally allowed himself to go into a deep slumber.

And thus, began their lives together. 

\----

_“_ _When the entire earth is covered in a golden yellow,_  
_The warmth is like a large palm_  
_Together, they would sit in front of the door looking at the setting sun._  
_Waiting for the small insects to sing,_  
_For the forest to be bathed in moonlight  
_ _They would then sleep soundly together in bed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the fixing up and rewriting and reworking, I no longer am sure how many chapters there will be in this story. However, an estimate would be about 8-10, I'd say.


	3. Anticipated Prospect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woodcutter and his little fox go to the town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished writing this chapter a while ago but I was having some blockage with the artwork. That saying so, it was also because I was watching Season 6 of Voltron and due to certain things, I wanted to draw.
> 
> Want to talk about things Voltron (opinions, discussions, headcanons, art requests)?  
> See me at my Voltron side blog: roaringwingstofly.tumblr.com. >uo

There were times that Shiro the woodcutter would come to the village and sell his carefully crafted wares.  This would usually occur about once a month where he would simply place a straw mat down and arrange his wares in an orderly fashion for potential customers to view.  Shiro’s presence was known by the villagers due to having spent his childhood there, along with his benevolence if one were to be lost in the forest he now called home.  So since he was seldom seen but still thought of fondly, he would be welcomed warmly whenever he came.

This time, however, villagers were surprised in seeing that he wasn’t alone as per usual.

“Hello there, Shiro,” greeted a beautiful woman who was at one of the stalls.  “Looking for a spot to sell your wares? Just go a bit past the Holt family’s clinic.  I’m sure there’s a space that’s open for you.”

“Thank you, Nyma,” the woodcutter dipped his head in response.

The woman, Nyma, then tilted her head as she noticed a brown patch of fur on the man’s shoulder, “Um…Shiro?”

“Yes? What is it?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but is that a fox on your shoulder?”

“Ah, this?” Shiro chuckled as he looked at the brown fox that was lying sprawled over his shoulder.  “Yes, he’s a fox, and yes, he’s on my shoulder.”

Lance had been quite excited upon hearing that Shiro would go to the village to sell his wares and requested that he go with him.  Initially, Shiro was hesitant since even in his human form, Lance did not bear the resemblance of a fully normal human, what with the vulpine ears and tail.

“The ears are easy!” Lance declared with a smirk as his velvety fox ears suddenly pressed down into his hair while at the same time, some of his tanned skin shifted out from the sides of his head and looped.  Eventually, a pair of normal human ears replaced the vulpine ones which Shiro stared at in both shock and awe. 

“What about the tail?”

Lance’s smile had then vanished.  “Yeah…about that…” he took hold of his brushy tail and sighed.  “That’s actually one way you can tell someone’s a fox.  Our tails.  They’re pretty hard to cover up.”

In the end, the woodcutter came with an agreement that perhaps Lance could just simply be a fox for that day rather than take his human form.  There’d be less suspicion and he wouldn’t have to hide, either, if he were with him the whole time.  He’d simply be in the open and everyone else would be none the wiser.  Lance wholeheartedly agreed and went along with it as he simply just wanted to be with Shiro and see what it was like to be in a human village without being regarded as a pest. 

And so here they were, with the brown fox lying on the woodcutter’s shoulder.

Seeing the woman, Lance immediately perked his head up and sniffed in interest.  His wiggling as he attempted to lean closer forward to Nyma caused Shiro to step towards her stall.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Nyma said as she surveyed the fox while placing a hand on her hip, contemplating.  “He’s cute, but why do you even have a fox on your shoulder, Shiro?”

Upon hearing the compliment, Lance made a warbling coo as he perked up and twitched his ear, puffing his fuzzy chest out a bit.  This display of bravado made Shiro laugh this time as he explained, “He was injured when I found him.  His leg was wounded, so he can’t walk for a bit.  And well, this is the result of that.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Nyma murmured as she then scratched at the fox’s ears, earning another pleased purr.  “But rest assured, you’re with Shiro, so you’ll be safe.  Well, you better hurry and get that spot before someone else does.  See you and your foxy friend around, Shiro!” 

“See you, Nyma,” and with that, the woodcutter dipped his head down again in respect before continuing on. 

“Hey, Nyma…”

“Hmm? What is it, Rolo?” Nyma turned to face her partner who was bringing some wares into their stall.

Rolo scratched his head while a light scowl crossed his face, “You know, I could’ve sworn that fox was winking at you just then.”

“Winking? Don’t be silly! He’s a fox.”

Shiro was able to find that space that was still open, which immediately prompted him to place the mat down and settle his wares upon it.  Organizing them in an orderly manner for display, Shiro then sat down cross-legged and waited for potential customers to come.  He was honestly glad that Lance was there to keep him company, sometimes the days could be quite long, and just having another presence with you while conducting business was comforting. 

Lance seemed to share the sentiment as a few times he’d stretch and sniff, but now and then, he’d also rub his head against the woodcutter’s face.  This would earn a few pets and scratches behind the ear, causing the fox to warble softly in pleasure.

Gazing up, Shiro saw the Holt family’s clinic not that far away and wondered about the residents who he was on friendly terms with.  The head of the family was a doctor named Sam who, due to being the only doctor in the village, would see many patients and thus be kept busy.  His children would also help him with handling the patients or obtaining various medicines and remedies.

Throughout the day, Shiro sold a few of his wares including a stool, a trinket in the shape of a crane (Lance had insisted that he should carve foxes next time – they’d sell more), and a wooden jewellery box that Lance had tried to stuff himself in as an attempt to see if he could fit from sheer curiosity.  However, Shiro did have a good number of villagers visit him just to inquire about his little assistant.

The woodcutter was happy to oblige, especially since he saw that Lance really liked the positive and curious attention he was getting.  The fox revelled at all the awed stares and happy squeals in his direction.  He would sniff and yip happily at the children that would stroke his fur, while he would purr and puff his chest out when a pretty woman was in sight.

Shiro was highly amused at all this but soon, the sun was about to set to signal the day was going to eventually close.  He started packing whatever wares he was unable to sell so that he and Lance could return home before he heard footsteps crunching in his direction.

“Packing up already?”

The woodcutter turned around to see a large man with an imposing figure towering over him.  The skin of this man that wasn’t covered was marred with many scars, though the biggest one in sight so far was a jagged one over his eye but hidden behind an eyepatch.  His hair was wild, while his robes were a crimson red and one of his arms was contained in a sling from within his robes.  A short blade, as well as a long one, rested at his hip, and there was a patch of white fur hanging down his shoulder.

_‘A samurai,’_ mused Shiro to himself, recognizing the swords and the attire of the other man.  _‘Is he from here though? I haven’t seen him before…’_

Lance nervously shifted in his spot, the scent and presence of the other human making him uneasy.   It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but there was a certain malignant ash-like quality that made a shudder run down the fox’s spine.

Feeling the fox shift a bit in nervousness, Shiro couldn’t help but inwardly agree.  As much as he didn’t like assuming another upon first glance, there were certain extremely rare few exceptions, “Yes.  The day’s about to end, and it’s better that I get home before it gets dark.”

“A shame.  You do have something that has caught my interest.”

Remaining calm, Shiro responded coolly, “I apologize for that since I’ve already put away all my wares.  But if you come by next week, you may be able to find what you want.”

“I wasn’t talking about your wares.  Actually…” the man then pointed in Lance’s direction.  “That fox.  That’s what I want.  How much is he?”

Lance instantly froze in his position, suddenly feeling himself wanting to slowly shrink away from the other human’s presence, particularly from under his glowering gaze.  His ears were close to flattening and he almost emitted a questioning and worried whine, but the fox shook his head.  He shouldn’t show fear in that instant; he refused to show it to this big, silly human, especially since Shiro was there with him.  It would take more than a couple of scars, swords, and an eyepatch to intimidate him.  So, for that, he tried to defiantly glare at the other human for daring to suggest he was simply an item for purchase.

“He’s not for sale,” Shiro’s voice was clear and calm yet firm as he frowned in displeasure.

“Come now, don’t be like that,” the _samurai_ murmured before reaching for his hip.  Shiro, at first, braced himself but relaxed upon seeing that the other man had simply reached for an old, worn pouch.  Opening it, a glittering shimmer of golden coins were in display as the other man fiddled with them idly through his fingers.  “I can pay you handsomely.”

“I already told you,” Shiro repeated, now starting to get quite exasperated with the man’s persistence.  Regardless, if this _samurai_ wouldn’t give in, the woodcutter was determined to equate his obstinacy but amplify it by tenfold.  “He’s not for sale.”

“Tch,” the _samura_ i wrinkled his nose in distaste but put away his pouch of coins.  Snorting, he spat at the ground close to Shiro’s feet.  Shiro’s steely eyes narrowed in response while Lance squealed in disgust before growling at the rudeness the other human was displaying to his beloved woodcutter.  “Fine, keep him.  But I can’t say I blame you.  Bet he keeps you warm, does he? I’ve been meaning to replace my own for a couple of days now.”

That was when he reached for the white patch of fur lying on his shoulder, seizing it as he swung it over and showed it to the pair.

Shiro’s eyes widened at the sight.

The white patch of fur turned out to be a fox.

A dead fox with limp white fur, whose eyes were tightly shut, and its jaws were open with the tongue lolling out limply.  Much to Shiro’s surprise, there were three white tails that were dangling loosely, almost brushing the dirt on the ground.

Lance squeaked in utter fright and distress at the horrifying sight, almost jumping off of Shiro’s shoulder as an instinctual response to flee.  However, due to his current position of being sprawled out on the woodcutter’s large shoulder and his leg still not in good condition, the brown fox yelped in surprised pain as he wound up thrashing and twisting around a bit in confusion. 

Shiro immediately caught Lance in his strong arms and held him close to his chest protectively.  He grit his teeth as his jaw clenched upon feeling the poor fox quivering like a leaf in his hold.  Straight away, the woodcutter stroked along Lance’s back and head in comfort to try and calm him down.  Though Lance’s trembling grew less, it was still very present as the fox started whimpering, shoving his face into the human’s chest and curling inwardly into a ball as a means of trying to hide away.

He could not be brave anymore.  Not from seeing that.

Shiro couldn’t blame him at all.

The _samurai_ seemed amused at the pitiful sight. 

A malicious grin spread onto his scarred face as he barked out an uproariously unpleasant laugh, “Ha! A shame on your fox.  He may not have as many tails as this one, but he has a pretty pelt.  Lovely eyes, too.  I’d challenge you for him myself, but you know what? It’s a fox, and a cowardly one at that.  Though I do like seeing the fear in my foe’s eyes, I don’t get that much satisfaction if it’s from any plain old fox.  This one at least gave me a fight.”  He shook the creature’s corpse in his hand for emphasis, its tongue rolling around uselessly with the harsh movement.

Shiro’s voice was trembling in rage as he spoke up once more to have his final say.  Try as he might to regain his composure, some of his anger and revulsion seeped through, “Nothing more needs to be said, then.  This fox is not for sale, and he never will be.  We’re done.  Good day.”

And with that, he finally left the village with his head held high as he carried Lance and his wares home.  Shiro didn’t want to look back in case the _samurai_ was watching them leave, but upon feeling an intense gaze fix on the back of his head, the woodcutter knew that notion was inevitable.

The journey home was silent save for Lance’s whimpering but Shiro’s reassuring and comforting pets and strokes were able to quieten the upset fox and soothe his being.  By the time the two returned to Shiro’s cottage, the woodcutter immediately shut and locked his door and put up the ragged curtains for the two windows.  He then went to the bed and leaned his shoulder down so Lance could safely slide off.  Worriedly, the human stroked along the fox’s back as he asked quietly, “Lance?”

“Y-yeah, Shiro?” the fox slowly shifted back to his human form.  The bandages on his leg snapped again but for the past couple of days, the wound no longer reopened from the action.  It was still a bit tender and stung a bit as he walked, but the fox was otherwise fine, not worse for wear.

“Are you okay, Lance?”

Lance was quiet as he started dressing himself in the blue _kimono_ , his fingers were shaky while his shoulders trembled as that awful sight from before reappeared in his head.  Try as he might to settle his nerves, what was seen could not be forgotten.  Despite the smile he tried to plaster up on his face, it was apparent he was not okay.

And Shiro was well aware of that.  “Lance,” his voice was clear and composed yet also gently firm. 

The fox’s ears flattened as he bit his bottom lip, his tail curling more inwardly.  “No…” his voice, usually so chipper and filled with cheer, was quiet and hushed, trembling in tone.

Shiro instantly wrapped his arms around the fox’s slender frame and held him close in a warm embrace.  Lance was taken aback at this suddenly forward action from the usually collected human, but his heart leaped at it.  He responded by wrapping his arms back around the woodcutter’s strong torso as he buried his head in his shoulder, revelling in his presence and scent, starting to feel his being calm down at last.

He didn’t shed tears, but Shiro knew that the fox was definitely quite affected from what just occurred and needed comfort and support.  Admittedly, the woodcutter himself found the sight of that a bit traumatizing as well, which surprised himself since he was used to seeing dead animals in the forest.

_‘No, this is different.  That man…’_

“Shiro…”

Hearing his name being called, Shiro backed away a little to see that the fox was gazing up at him.  His sapphire eyes still had tints of slight misery in them but another hue, filled with relief and comfort, was slowly seeping in.  “Thanks.”

Shiro arched an eyebrow in slight confusion, “For what, Lance?”

“For not selling me.”

“Why would I sell you?” Shiro exclaimed in shock, genuinely surprised at hearing such a suggestion.  “You’re not property, Lance!”

Upon hearing the words spoken with such straightforward sincerity, the fox gave a soft yet bright little smile, heart all a flutter.  Before he could voice his thoughts on Shiro’s words however, the human spoke up again.

“Are you scared that that _samurai_ might come for you or something?”

“No,” Lance responded a bit too slowly for it to come across as truthful, prompting a quirk from Shiro’s eyebrow.  The fox darted his eyes away and clicked his tongue as a means of an innocent distraction.  However, the woodcutter did not relent in his steady and serious stare.  So for that, Lance then heaved a sigh as he admitted, “Okay, yeah.  I’m…I’m kinda scared that he might come and well, do something…I don’t know what, though…”

Shiro’s face softened at seeing the fox look vulnerable again, his usual cheer replaced by uncertainty, apprehensiveness, and some fear.  With the past couple of days they lived together, such helplessness was something that the fox didn’t seem to like showing in this more human form.  So to see it displayed in the open concerned the woodcutter.  Wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders, Shiro squeezed him a little in assurance. 

“If he comes, just leave him to me.”

Lance’s blue orbs widened upon the solemn yet serious and sincere vow uttered by the human, “Shiro…”

“Allow me to protect you.”

Seeing that Shiro’s face had this time formed to a little encouraging yet tender smile, it was then that Lance wondered how he was so blessed by the gods to find a human like this.

\----

The next day, while Shiro was cutting wood again, Lance was carefully treading along, looking around the cottage and inhaling the scent of freshly cut wood and the morning dew.  Seemingly as a way to forget about the incidents from the day before as the image of the dead white fox being shaken like a simple ragdoll still floated in his mind from time-to-time.

He then stumbled upon a little field filled with vivid yellow flowers. 

They were larger than the violet ones he picked previously but they still had a soft and delicate quality to their appearance.  Perhaps because of the colour, they radiated a soothing warmth that made the fox’s being settle down and feel himself go at ease, no longer was he as apprehensive from yesterday’s troubles.  Sniffing them, they smelt sweet and luscious, much like honey.

Naturally, Lance took a couple and presented them to Shiro.

Shiro was again surprised at the kind gesture but happily took them again, also feeling his strong figure relax from the honey-like scent of the yellow flowers.  He placed them beside the violet ones, both aromas emanating an attractive and enticing scent.

The day after, Lance had found pretty white flowers with a strange curved, bell-like shape.  Though they didn’t emanate a great scent, the flamboyant yet gorgeous and comforting sight of them made him smile.

And the day after, there were some pretty pink ones that appeared petite but coming closer, the smell was intensely aromatic, washing over the fox’s being.  He felt quite attracted by the flowery scent.

And after that, red ones that were very intense in colour.  The scent was a bit overbearing at first, yet after some time, the fox got used to it and found that it wasn’t even that bad.  Oddly enough, its scent mixed well with the other flowers to create a more loving perfume.  Particularly the violet, yellow, and pink flowers.

Then after that, there was a field filled with blue flowers. 

Though appearing vibrant in their sapphire shades with extravagant petals on display, they were extremely soft to the touch.  The fox made sure to handle them gently in his paws.  The scent was light and refreshing like rain in the morning.

As much as Shiro was highly flattered and secretly delighted with the sweet gifts that Lance would give him in the following days, he was starting to run out of space by putting all these flowers.  Although tending to the flowers was not a problem, his humble little home was just that.

Little. 

\----

As the days passed by, if you were to accidentally wander from the dirt path and find yourself in the forest, you may hear the sound of laughter.  Warm laughter filled with mirth. 

If that were the case, it would do you good to follow it.

If you were to follow it, you may find a simple cottage in the woods.  However, it no longer stood alone as there was a little wooden shed built next to it.

From a far eye, you may notice myriads of colours dotting or splashing through what little gaps the shed offered.  If your curiosity peaked and you chose to come closer, you would see that the variety of colours belonged to a beautiful arrangement of flowers that were kept inside.

Bouquets and bunches of flowers were lined in neat and organized arrangement, carefully tended to.  The various cool violets and calm blues were in a certain section while bright oranges and warm yellows were arranged at another section entirely.  Passionate red here, loving pink over there, and a wistful white along the window, the flowers stood with strong and supple green stems.  Despite the thinness of the stems, the arrangement of flowers stood proud and strong yet emanating a cheerful and soothing effect if you were lucky enough to sight them.

If your luck was also faring well, you may catch the sight of the residents of the cottage nearby.

A strong woodcutter and a brown fox.

The woodcutter may be conducting his duty nearby, swinging his trusty axe with remarkable strength while a brown fox would watch him closely with his pretty blue eyes. 

Or perhaps the two would return home with the woodcutter carrying a bunch of new pieces of wood for future keeping while the fox would trot alongside his feet, sometimes dragging along a few twigs in his mouth.

Or, perhaps if you were luckier, you may even see the woodcutter arranging or tending to the flowers in the shed with such loving care.  The tenderness of his actions may be considered a surprising contrast to his typical work and strong, sturdy figure. 

You may then see the fox pop up with flowers in his mouth, shyly yet keenly offering them to the woodcutter.  The woodcutter would then laugh joyously as he accepts and adds them to the little greenhouse that had been constructed, the atmosphere around him seemingly becoming brighter.

Yes, as the days continued on, there was laughter that filled the cottage.  Warm and cheerful laughter that was most certainly not present before.

 

\----

 _Every day, the woodcutter’s laughter is merry and bright  
_ _The little fox would bring in fragrances of seven coloured flowers  
_ _The woodcutter smilingly built a greenhouse._

 


End file.
